


close our eyes to the octopus ride

by Anonymous



Category: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: (and a little), (is implied), Chocolate Box Exchange 2019, Coitus Interruptus, F/F, First Meetings, Meet-Cute, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Tentacle Sex, Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-26 21:32:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17753861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The woman glances lazily over the rest of the apples, picks one up and tosses it in the air. "Though," she says, catching it and taking a large bite out of the side, "I've never paid much attention to the law."May and Liv, before.





	close our eyes to the octopus ride

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to glassesofjustice for the beta!
> 
> Title from from Syd Barrett's "Octopus."

When they meet for the first time, it's total chance. They're reaching for the same apple at the farmer's market, and just as May's hand starts to close around the bright-green Granny Smith, the other woman's hand covers hers. "Oh!" the woman says, startling a little. Her eyes are wide and astonished behind the rounded spectacles. "I didn't realize you wanted the same one."

"Yeah," May says, chuckling. "It's for a pie. I always get them here." It's worth leaving Queens to get the freshest ones.

"I see," the woman says, her lips coming together in a shadow of a grin. She tucks a strand of her wildly wavy hair behind one ear. "Apple pies are my favorite."

"Mine, too. So..." May looks down at where their hands are still joined over the apple. "Are you going to let me have it?"

The woman glances down, but doesn't remove her hand. "I haven't decided. I usually get what I want." Her hand tightens over May's.

 _Well._ "They say that 'possession is nine-tenths of the law,' right? And I'm the one who's holding it."

"True." The woman removes her hand and takes a step back. Then she glances lazily over the rest of the apples, picks one up and tosses it in the air. "Though," she says, catching it and taking a large bite out of the side, "I've never paid much attention to the law." She walks away, quickly swallowed by the crowd. 

May's hand is still tingling with the memory of the other woman's hand on hers as the sight of her wild hair disappears. She pockets the prized apple, throwing over her shoulder an apologetic, "I'm good for it, Morty, you know I am!" as she starts to push through the crowd.

But it's fruitless. The other woman is gone. Just as she's given up and decided to go back and pay, the crowd parts. There, on the dusty pavement, is a single apple with one bite taken out of the side.

* * *

"Hello?" May calls as she cracks open the heavy door to the lab. The covered dish under her arm makes opening it wide enough to step through a bit of an awkward struggle. "Peter? Are you still here?" 

"Mr. Parker? No, he had to rush off somewhere. As usual."

May stops in mid-struggle. Something about the voice is very familiar.

She looks up and finds a woman in a pristine white lab coat walking toward her. Her eyes settle on the face, that hair, just as a look of recognition comes over the other woman's face at the same time.

"You," they say in unison.

May finally slips all the way through the door and it bangs behind her. The other woman doesn't wince the way May does. She's supremely poised and self-confident. "My Granny Smith."

May straightens her shoulders. " _My_ Granny Smith, you mean."

The other woman raises one eyebrow, but there's something about the set of her jaw that shows she's impressed that May isn't backing down. "Perhaps," she concedes. "But that is the name I have been calling you, lacking any other alternatives."

"Oh!" May laughs. She actually had been thinking the same thing. Readjusting the covered dish in the crook of her elbow, she holds out her hand. "It's actually May. May Parker."

The other woman nods slowly. "Ah. As in our Mr. Peter Parker, I assume?" She then takes May's hand in a firm grasp, not a shake.

"His aunt." May doesn't pull away her hand, feeling a rush of deja vu from the farmer's market. Instead, she peers around their clasped hands to read the name tag clipped to the other woman's lab coat. "Dr.... Octavius?"

"Doctor Olivia Octavius, yes. Head researcher, cybernetics."

"Impressive." Now it made sense why Peter busted his butt to get a spot here, though it's a bit concerning that he seems to be disappearing a lot here as well as at home. She gently removes her hand from Octavius' grasp and sets her covered dish down on one of the lab tables, feeling Octavius' eyes on her the whole time. To avoid her gaze, May looks around. Lots of hardware and blinking lights. A few partially-assembled machines behind glass. All fascinating. "I've done a little tinkering in my day. Peter never really talks about your work here. I'd love to know more... that is, if you're allowed to tell me."

"Well," Octavius says, "I do a bit more here than tinker."

Feeling even more awkward, May begins, "Of course, I didn't mean—"

"Would you like to see my latest project?"

Her voice sounds odd as she says that, as if she's getting farther away, except not away but…

...up.

May's mouth drops open as she turns to see Octavius rising into the air on four mechanical tentacles. "They're so..." Octavius waits for her to find the right word, face shining with pride, hair seeming to stream back in an invisible wind. "...beautiful." She takes a step forward and places a tentative hand on one. As she runs her fingers gently over it, she realizes It's not cold, like she expects, but slightly warm and almost... alive.

Octavius lowers herself back to the ground beside May. "I cannot wait to unveil them to the world, so everyone can experience their beauty." One of the tentacles rises into the air, the one May was touching, then circles around and behind her. When it comes back, the claw is carrying the covered dish. "Was this for Peter?"

It had been cooked as a thank you gift, a little something Peter could share with his boss for a few brownie points. And he definitely needs them if he's going to keep this job. But that's not the only reason she says, "For you, actually."

Another tentacled claw lifts the pot lid and reveals what's inside, still flaky and warm. "No..." Octavius says, "it's surely not _the_ pie, is it?"

"What else?"

The doctor's face melts with pure pleasure, and her eyes flutter closed at the first bite. 

"Like it, Dr. Octavius?"

She chews carefully and swallows. Opening her eyes again, she says, "My dear, anyone who cooks this well should be my friend. Call me _Liv_."

* * *

What starts out as a cooking lesson turns into a tour of the house. And a tour of the house turns into, well…

May shudders.

She feels overwhelmed with sensation—there's so... _much_ of Liv. Hands, lips, arms, and tentacles, oh my _god_ , the tentacles, pressing her against the wall of her bedroom, everywhere at once. May breaks off a particularly intense kiss, panting heavily. "Liv..."

"Are you all right, my dear?" Liv stops kissing her, and takes a step back, but one tentacle is still wrapping tenderly around May's waist.

May places a hand over it, even more warm and alive than the first time she'd touched it, and it stills for her. "Yes..." She pulls in another deep breath. "It's just... all at once. Give me a little time to... adapt?"

"Ah, of course, we must avoid overstimulation, yes?" The tentacle unwraps itself and slides toward the floor. "Find just the _right_ amount."

Then the tentacle changes direction and wraps gently around one of May's legs. It inches upward, under her skirt (thank god she chose a skirt today), past her knee. May lets out a sigh. "Liv..."

It slides higher, so different than a hand feels, but not really like a machine, either. There's an electrical tingle that accompanies the path it takes, and her core flares in anticipation. "Is that better, darling?"

As soon as she gives a shaky nod, there's a tearing sound and her underwear is just... gone. Devoured, incinerated, she doesn't know or care, especially once the tentacle begins to venture inside her. May gasps at the unfamiliar sensation.

"So soft," Liv murmurs as if she can actually feel it. And who knows, maybe she can, she'd explained that the tentacles are connected to Liv's neural pathways.

And then the door cracks open with a creak of wood. "Aunt May, are you—? OH MY FUCKING GOD!"

May's eyes fly open wide, and she desperately pulls downward on her skirt, which has rucked upward. "Peter?! What are you doing home?"

Liv, whose tentacle is still within May, turns toward the red-faced figure in the doorway and says unperturbed, "It's only polite to knock."

"Doctor Octavius—Do-oc—Ooock-k—!" Peter stutters, gripping the wooden frame so hard May thinks she hears a crack. "Au-Aunt—M-may?" 

He takes a staggering step back into the hallway, and Liv takes that moment to slam and bar the door with one of her unoccupied tentacles. Then a slow smile grows on her satisfied face. "Now where were we?"

If May had any chance to forget in the confusion, the tentacles quickly remind her.

* * *

May swipes left on photo after photo on her phone's screen. Too boring. Too plain. Too young. She's happy Miles helped her set up the dating app, but she's not really finding many matches, especially with the filters set for older, intelligent singles in the New York area.

She thinks again to the living room battle and her first sight of Liv in years. "Oh, Liv," she says, with a mix of annoyance and regret in her voice. "Why'd things have to go so wrong?" She often finds herself reminiscing about those whirlwind days, when Liv wooed her, nearly married her...

Once May found out that Peter was Spider-Man and Liv's mortal enemy? Well, it made things complicated, to say the least.

With a sigh, she puts the phone face down on the counter. Then humming a song she and Liv used to dance to softly to herself, she starts to slice the apples for a pie.

**Author's Note:**

> The coda is edited from the original version.


End file.
